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She extends her hand, and I reciprocate with a handshake. I notice her hand is soft, a striking contrast from her firm grip. The smell of vanilla and roses infiltrates my nose, and I resist the urge to pull her closer. I remind myself that she’s here for business and I need maintain a professional demeanor.
“Take a seat.” I motion to the chair opposite my desk and settle into mine on the other side. “Tell me, Ms. Stafford, why do you want to work at Sinclair Group?”
“I’m looking for a new challenge,” she starts. “Valentine mentioned that it was important to you that your new assistant has a college degree. While I don’t have one, I believe my real-world experience is equally as valuable. My knowledge of the investment industry is extensive, and I’m committed to surpassing your expectations, if given the chance. While I’m happy to make your coffee and take meticulous meeting notes, I won’t hesitate to voice my opinion if it can bring value to a discussion.” She straightens up in her chair. “I’ll be frank, Mr. Sinclair. You have an impressive track record, and you need someone of equal caliber working by your side.”
“You’re my ninth interview today,” I inform her. “What makes you think I haven’t already extended a job offer to someone else and am merely interviewing you as a formality?”
She lets out a soft laugh. “You don’t strike me as someone who would give that kind of courtesy. You’re a busy man, and if you’d already filled the position, I would have gotten a call informing me that my interview had been canceled.”
I drum my fingers on my desk, contemplating how to respond. Truth be told, when Presley walked through the door, part of me hoped I’d be able to quickly dismiss her as a qualified candidate. She might be too young for me, but it wouldn’t have stopped me from asking her to dinner.
Unfortunately, I have to put the brakes on that particular fantasy, considering Valentine was right—Presley Stafford would be perfect for this position. The problem is figuring out how to maintain a professional working relationship with a woman I’m tempted to bend over my desk.
The rest of the interview goes by in a blur, and before I know it our hour is up.
“Thank you for your time, Ms. Stafford. My team will be in touch.” I stand up to escort her out—a gesture I haven’t extended to any of the other candidates.
“I look forward to working with you, Mr. Sinclair,” Presley says confidently before striding out the door.
If she were anyone else, her bold assumption that I’m going to offer her the position would be off-putting. However, I’m impressed by her tenacity and determination, placing her far ahead of the other applicants despite her lack of a higher education. There’s no denying that hiring her would be a smart business decision, but it’s going to test my self-control. I’ll have to keep things strictly professional, starting by verbally addressing her only as Ms. Stafford during our conversations.
ONE YEAR AGO
I storm down the hall after another unproductive meeting with Mr. Wescott and his team. The bastard is playing hardball, and if his investment firm wasn’t the best on the West Coast, I wouldn’t be so keen on acquiring his company. At this rate, it could be another year before the deal is complete.
On my way back to my office, I stop by Presley’s empty desk when a piece of red paper catches my eye. Her work station is usually spotless so I can’t help but question what it’s doing there. While I acknowledge that I shouldn’t invade her privacy, my curiosity gets the best of me. I glance around to make sure I’m alone before leaning over to get a quick peek.
Presley’s Holiday Wishlist
1. Build a snowman
2. Make a gingerbread house
3. Holiday movie marathon + hot chocolate
4. Decorate a real Christmas tree
5. Write a letter to Santa
6. Kiss under the mistletoe
It appears to be a list of activities Presley completed while she was away for the holidays. Her absence for the three days she was out of the office left an unmistakable void.
My jaw clenches when I reach the final item on the list.
Kiss under the mistletoe? What the fuck?
If it’s not crossed off, does that mean it didn’t happen? I emit a low growl, and a wave of possessiveness washes over me just thinking about another man touching her. I wonder if she’s seeing anyone. Who am I kidding? She’s a gorgeous, young woman, living in the city; of course she’s dating. Regardless, it shouldn’t matter to me. I have no business caring about her personal life, considering I’m her boss and I have done everything to ensure our relationship has remained strictly professional during the last two years.
“Mr. Sinclair, what are you doing?”
My head snaps up to see Presley walking toward me.
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath.
I hastily shove her wishlist under the pile of papers on her desk, pretending to search through the stack.
“I need the Clarkston Fundamentals report. Where is it?” My voice comes out cold and demanding. I internally cringe at my tone but don’t apologize.
